Forgive Me
by Hiyume
Summary: "Ever since Cas, I'm having a hard time trusting anybody." One chapter per current episodes, starting with s07e07. Castiel's POV. Destiel, if you squint.
1. Forgive Me

_**A/N: **Just a short drabble that came to mind after listening to Forgive Me by City and Colour, and also after watching The Mentalists episode. Enjoy. Reviews/ConCrit are very much appreciated!_

"You know what... you were right. About Amy."

These are the first words he hears from the Winchester boys in weeks. He's seen them, yes. He's watched them from afar, never really letting them out of his sight, but never approaching within earshot of them either. Because he is afraid.

Ever since he washed up onto the shore of that municipal lake a few days after the Leviathans had taken over him, confused and lost and alone, fear has driven him.

That fear of having no purpose, and of rejection—from both Heaven and the two boys he at one time considered family. He is afraid of not having the ability to do anything, so he watches the Winchesters, invisible to their senses, waiting for that one single moment to show himself when he is needed. When he believes he is forgiven.

But then he wonders if that moment will ever come. And that's what has kept him back, lurking outside of their perception. He wonders if there will ever be a moment where the memory of him will be acknowledged in a sad, hopeful way by the two hunters. By Dean. He wonders if they miss him—despite his lies. Despite his betrayal that he so desperately wishes to take back.

And he is so afraid. So afraid that he will remain this way—confused. And lost. And alone.

Then today comes, and he sees even from his far distance the flash of his overcoat in the trunk of that blue stolen car as Sam closes it, the younger brother paying no attention to it but it's there. It's there and then Dean is there and he, like a fly to a fire is drawn to them, looking for answers. They still have his overcoat. They still hold on to a piece of him.

They still hold on.

Sam speaks those words. He listens vaguely as he forgives Dean for something he has done. He waits. Waits for something beyond a simple apology, because he knows Sam, and when Sam wants to talk to Dean there's always something greater behind what he is saying. He can feel it in the air.

And then there it is.

"But here's the thing. You can't just look me in the face and tell me everything's fine."

He looks at Dean, watches how he reacts as Sam lists off what he's noticed about his brother's behaviour. He sees it. That attentiveness, then that sigh and shrug as if he is denying it but he sees it in his green eyes. Sorrow. Pain.

It's all his fault.

He wants to stop being afraid. To stop this hiding right there so he can ask for forgiveness. To step close and cup his face in his hands and cry and say those words over and over again.

_I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry._

And then he is doing it without even realizing. Without revealing himself he's walking closer to Dean and bringing his right hand up, hand open, hardly aware of the fact that the other man is talking to Sam and his brows are furrowed. But then he hears his name.

"Ever since Cas, I'm having a hard time trusting anybody."

All of the hope he has is shattered in that moment. His hand is a stone and yet feels limp, fingers inches from Dean's jaw, unwilling to move, conflicted, at a loss. His mouth is slightly open, slack, and if Dean is still saying something he's not aware of it.

He doesn't move when the Winchesters get into the car. Doesn't move when they start the engine. Doesn't move when they drive off, his overcoat still in the trunk. Doesn't move even when they pass the horizon, out of sight for the first time since he woke a few weeks ago.

He just stands there. Confused. And lost. And alone.

And unforgiven.


	2. Sparks

**A/N: **_Decided to continue this because agh all of the ideas I have. This one goes with the song Sparks by Coldplay. Expect the song inspirations to be Coldplay and City and Colour heavy. Also this might become more Destiel-oriented than I thought. Blame my playlist._

_Takes place during the episode Time For a Wedding. Enjoy!_

It's a week later when he decides to go back to them. He's wandered the world with no purpose. He set foot on top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris, watching all of the people below; how insignificant they seemed and how he'd always overlooked them in favor the 'bigger picture', yet now he knew how important each of them could be to another. He went to Jerusalem—to the temples—and watched the faithful pray to a broken Heaven. He stood on a small island at the center of the Pacific Ocean, with nothing but the sound of water to keep him company.

But he realizes after that week that maybe he doesn't need to be forgiven. Watching over the Winchesters was enough, because now he has no purpose other than wandering. Whether he's forgiven or not doesn't matter. He just needs to be there. To make sure they're okay.

So he goes to them. He finds Sam. He never restored the sigils on Sam's ribcage after he brought him back, so tracking him is easy enough.

But Dean isn't there.

Instead he finds Sam in a colourful home, wrapped in the arms of a woman he vaguely recalls. And he looks... _happy._

Without Dean.

So he looks for him. He has to be nearby. Right?

And he finds that it is true, because just a few blocks down he discovers the old blue car parked on the side of an empty road, looking lost on this cold autumn night. There are no abandoned houses or motels around, so he peers inside through the window. And there Dean is, curled up in the backseat.

He's using the overcoat as a blanket. He looks sad.

He presses his hand up against the window, not caring if it leaves an imprint. And he wonders what happened in that week he was gone. He wonders if he could have stopped it somehow.

But there is no point in wondering. So he just stand by the car all night, waiting for morning to come.

He hopes Dean doesn't feel confused and lost and alone.

* * *

><p>The days pass, and he gets his answers. That the woman named Becky was using an elixir. That the elixir was from a crossroads demon. That he could have stopped it by sending that demon back to Hell before he reached her.<p>

But in the end it's okay, because, despite the fact that they received help from Crowley rather than himself, Sam and Dean return to what they were before. Dean says goodbye to his temporary hunting partner, and when the man leaves, Sam talks.

Dean acts differently. Usually he listens. Usually he concentrates on what Sam is saying. But now he's making snide comments as if to avoid it, and the heart to heart conversation is lost in a puddle of jokes and something like denial.

Until Sam's last few words.

"Now you finally get to take care of yourself. About time, huh?"

And it's like those words dropped into that puddle and disrupted it, releasing what Dean was trying to hide. Because his expression breaks into a thousand little pieces.

"Yeah... right."

And for a moment Dean bows his head with a thousand mile stare. He looks like he's fighting a plethora of different emotions and the dam is about to break. It's unbearable to watch. He just wants to show himself, standing a few feet away, and say,

_"I'm here, Dean. I'm here. I'll take care of you."_

and hope maybe that will fix all of the cracks that seem to slowly get bigger as each moment passes.

But he doesn't. Instead he just watches as Dean sighs and gets in the car, still sad, even with his brother in the passenger seat.

And he wonders if he'll ever get used to watching their car disappear over the horizon.


	3. Thistle and Weeds

**A/N:** _This week's episode had me crying ugh. Just. Ugh. Anyway, this installment is written to/inspired by Thistle and Weeds by Mumford and Sons._

_Takes place during the episode How To Win Friends and Influence Monsters. ConCrit/Reviews are always wonderful._

He helps them. They don't know it. What he does is not enough to raise suspicion.

It's little things. Finding their car keys when they forget where they are and slipping them into their jacket pockets. Replacing some of Dean's nightmares with fond childhood memories. Warding off whatever hallucations Sam's having as best he can. Keeping Brandon from spitting his gum into Dean's Turducken Slammer sandwhich. Little things.

He keeps his distance when he doesn't feel he's needed. Resists that small temptation to show himself. They already have enough to deal with.

But something happens to Dean. He's not himself, and he admits it to Sam and Bobby. He's in the room when Dean says it; in that dimension that humans can't see.

"Best I've felt in a couple months. Cas, black goo… I don't even care anymore."

At first the phrase hurts him. Despite Dean saying it was his fault that he was having trouble trusting anyone, he still had some hope. Some hope that the older brother still cares. Still cares enough that he can justify helping them with little things.

He leaves for a while, and as he thinks it over, he realizes something. Dean said_ "anymore." _Whatever had put Dean in that state had made him passive and craving for nothing but food. So, before he ate that sandwhich, did he…?

Did he care?

He returns to them about an hour later, when they're in Bobby's truck spying on the Big Gerson's delivery bay. Bobby and Sam talk in hushed tones while Dean sleeps in one of the back seats. He sits next to him, watching the man's calm face as the other two speak.

And Sam speaks of his and Dean's pain, and how different they are. Sam is open. He knows what he's dealing with. He admits it. But Dean's keeping it all inside; refuses to talk about it or explain; pretends he's okay because the only thing he knows how to do is worry about the people around him. He doesn't understand what it's like to be taken care of. Not emotionally.

But the cracks are getting bigger. The dam is breaking and Dean can't hold back the few drops getting through.

He places a hand gently on Dean's sleeping face. He furrows his brow.

_Do you care, Dean? Am I hurting you?_

Dean wakes with a start, but he's gone before the man can make sense of the words he's put into his head.

* * *

><p>The next day is a blur of panic. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know how to help without making himself obvious to both the Winchesters and the Leviathans. He's stuck and all he can do is watch as they take Bobby inside; as the two boys run in to save him.<p>

But Bobby evades one of them and manages to distract the one disguised as Dick, allowing Dean and Sam to spill whatever the substance is onto the Leviathan. They run past him, but Bobby is hesitating, and it's all he can do not to just appear and yell at the old man, _"Run. Run!"_

He goes to Bobby's side, still invisible to him, and whispers the words in his ear. It seems to snap him out of his wide-eyed trance and he stumbles back towards the back doors. Another Leviathan appears before Bobby. As quietly as he can, he hangs a crowbar on a metal frame structure, which Bobby sees and uses, buying him time.

The hunter makes it out the doors, but Dick is following him. With a gun. Bobby gets into the van but the Leviathan is already raising the weapon. He reaches out his hand and concentrates to try and stop it. To try and stop the bullet. But he isn't strong enough. His head whips around. And he knows. He knows it's hit its mark.

The conversation that Bobby and Dean had earlier plays through his mind. And he's reminded of how much of a father the man is to the Winchesters. He is their mentor. Their lifeline. He is what's holding the boys together.

And he remembers how well Bobby knows Dean. Can see how he's changed. How he's on the edge. How the dam is cracked.

"_You die before me and I'll kill ya."_

The foundations are breaking. And he doesn't know how to stop it.


	4. Hide and Seek

**A/N: **_It's hard to write through tears. And I thought the last episode was emotional. Welp let's attempt to make everyone more miserable by writing angst. Okay? Okay. Inspired by/written to the song Hide and Seek by Imogen Heap. Takes place during the episode Death's Door._

Cas is already at the hospital when they get there, standing unseen in the hall as they wheel Bobby past on a stretcher, the boys not too far behind. They're panicking as the nurses and doctor put the old man on life support, but they're pushed back with a brief explanation, the curtains closed.

And they look at each other. Their expressions are hopeful and hopeless at the same time; confused and understanding; confident and doubtful. But what shines through all of it is the fear. Fear of losing the last person they have left besides each other.

All he can think is that all of this is his fault.

If not for him there would be no Leviathan. There would have been no gun in Dick's hand. There would be no bullet in Bobby's head.

He approaches them, his gaze looking between the two—Sam breathing hard, Dean on the verge of breaking—and he speaks.

"I'll fix this. I'll fix everything."

But they don't hear it. They don't see him. Because the words are for himself.

He passes through the curtains and stands next to Bobby's unconscious form, not regarding any of the others in the room. He places a hand on his forehead.

He can't heal him. He's no longer that powerful. But he can help.

Even if only a little.

* * *

><p>He plants a piece of himself inside of Rufus after the man exits the hospital from his head trauma. He can't completely control him, but he can persuade him to say he wants. Lead him the right way.<p>

He explains through Rufus how to return to reality; how to stay alive.

And he learns a lot about the man who Sam and Dean consider a father. Memories of his wife. Playing catch with Dean. His parents. That feeling of worthlessness. The dark bits that Bobby never shared.

He flickers out now and then, losing hold of Bobby's mind for seconds, which in reality is minutes.

And each time he is forced to watch on as Dean and Sam try their best to hold together.

Dean punching glass and drawing blood, so in denial. Then Sam trying to bring up the possibilty of Bobby being gone. Dean getting angry. "We've been through enough." And he knows that if they lose Bobby he won't be able to handle it. He can't yet comprehend it.

And then afterward Sam, sitting down, palms together before him. Praying. He realizes what he's doing a second later. Folds his fingers together. Presses against the wound on his hand.

Each time he returns to Bobby's mind, his hold on Rufus weakens, and by the time they catch the Reaper, he can no longer do anything. He's trapped inside of Rufus. Forced to watch. Forced to listen as Rufus agrees with the Reaper and he can't stop it.

But Bobby fights. He refuses, and follows his younger self to face his worst memory.

He stands up to the man that made him believe he breaks everything he touches, scratching out the self-loathing, healing the wounds.

"I adopted two boys, and they grew up great. They grew up _heroes._"

But they can't be heroes without a handhold to keep them from falling off the edge. Bobby is that handhold. He is the one keeping them from falling. And they are the ones keeping Bobby from giving up. From believing he breaks everything he touches.

They need each other.

* * *

><p>It's sudden. Without warning he's thrown out of Bobby's mind, standing next to Bobby. Sam and Dean are in the room, saying what is possibly their last words before they wheel Bobby out for surgery. Just as Sam takes his hand away from him, he wakes. Cas's shoulders slump slightly with relief. But Bobby is weak. He's hardly there. He writes a number on Sam's hand as the brothers watch him, confused and hopeful and happy.<p>

But as Bobby lays his hand back down, mutters out one last word, his eyes become distant.

A thousand mile stare.

A last small breath.

A high pitched noise as the heart monitor flatlines.

Gone.

Nurses and doctors come storming in again. Sam and Dean are pushed away again. Again, again, again.

There is nothing Cas can do.

So he finds a chair. Sits down.

And he prays to a broken Heaven.


	5. Warning Sign

**A/N: **_Wow this turned out a little bit longer than expected. I actually think I ended up scrunching it a bit. This is the last chapter. For anyone who hasn't heard the news, Misha Collins will be back on SPN from episode 17 to 19, at least. If he's coming back as Cas, I don't want to lengthen this and end up not in canonverse. This chapter written to/inspired by Warning Sign by Coldplay. Takes place during the episode Adventures In Babysitting. Thank you for reading!_

He follows them for a few weeks. Doesn't bother them. Doesn't try to help. There isn't really anything to help with. They lay off on the hunting jobs for a while, grieving, trying to discover the meaning of that five digit number.

He's still not sure whether his appearance would help them. But he does stick around. Just incase they can't take it anymore. Just incase they fall and don't want to get back up again.

Just incase the dam breaks.

He failed to help Bobby, and now everyone is gone. All the brothers have is each other. But that faith in each other is crumbling and falling apart, like gravel between his fingers. Dean is hiding inside himself. Sam still hallucinates now and then. They're falling apart and there's nothing strong enough to make them whole again.

They drive back to the place they call home after a hunt. He's waiting on the porch when they drive in. He's invisible. Like always.

But there's something different about Dean. Something...

He's smiling.

But it's not a real smile. Even with just a quick glance he can see it. It's forced. He's not happy. He's just pretending, but the effort seems to be breaking him faster. He looks like a broken man trying to laugh at himself. At the absurdity of how many pieces of himself he has to pick up off the ground. How impossible it feels. And more pieces fall as he laughs.

Dean's plastered grin widens. Falters. Falls. And again he tries. Tries to smile and hide all the pieces away. The cycle continues.

The brothers shut the door behind them.

He can't take it anymore, seeing Dean that way. He gets up, about the enter the house. He stops. Looks over at their car. He walks over to the trunk and unlocks it easily. Takes the overcoat out. Slips it on.

He feels whole, suddenly. Complete. But he knows he won't be keeping it. Only for tonight will he be wearing it.

He finds Dean sleeping upstairs in a double bed, or at least trying to sleep. He looks so small. So alone. He can see the covers bunching up where his fingers clutch the sheets beneath them, as if the only way he can put himself to sleep is by concentrating.

Don't make any noise, he tells himself. He's not really sure of what exactly he's doing. He just knows that he needs to be there. Needs to make sure Dean plans to get up the next morning. He slowly places his knee on the bed, as lightly as a feather, not disturbing the matress. Then hands. His other leg. And he lies down, on his left side, facing Dean, but almost a full arm-length's away. Completely still. Completely silent. Just watching Dean's expression contort between peace and frustration as the broken man tries to make the world fade away.

He doesn't like it. Dean's tight-lipped quivering mouth. His scrunched eyes. It's as though Dean has forgotten how to sleep. What peace feels like. Carefully, he reaches a hand out. His fingers hover over Dean's cheek, hoping maybe someone else's presence would calm him. He lets his palm fall on the man's face, but slow. Painfully slow.

Dean's eyes shoot open. His hand goes rigid. For a moment Dean is on alert, instincts telling him its a monster and to lash out. After a moment he calms. Then confusion. Then,

"... Cas?"

It's more a mouthed word than a whisper. He doesn't reply. Just stares through the darkness. Into the green with his blue. Dean is just as still as he is, as if trying to comprehend. Trying to make sense of how this is possible.

"... Is this a dream?"

Castiel clenches his teeth slightly. He just wants to say it. _No. This is real. Dean, I'm right here. It's me. Everything's okay._

But he doesn't. Because he knows it's not him they need now. It's Bobby. And if he says this is real, Dean will ask about him. He'll ask about how to get him back. But he can't do that. He can't bring him back. And the moment would be ruined by more grief and hopelessness.

No. He won't say this is real.

"I can't tell you."

Dean furrows his brows. Swallows something back. There's a shine in Dean's eyes that he didn't see before. Getting brighter, about to spill out onto the pillow.

"Why not?" he almost chokes it out. Cas gives a sad, tight-lipped smirk.

"Because if I do you might wake up."

Dean is still for a moment, trying to understand. Eventually, he does. He nods a few times. His mouth starts to quiver more. His eyes squint, trying to hold back the waterworks. He inhales and it's shaky.

"Okay."

Without another word, Dean scoots closer. And closer. He burries his face into a surprised Castiel's chest.

The dam breaks.

It's not dramatic. Dean's not sobbing or dribbling like a child. But he can feel his shirt becoming wet. The slight shake of the man's body. The small heave now and then. The same fingers that had clenched the covers now clenching around his overcoat.

"Everyone's gone, Cas," he says. His voice, quivering and somewhat higher in pitch, sounds like the voice of a little boy. An innocent, little boy. "Everyone's gone. I don't know what to do anymore. I just want it to stop. Make it stop."

It's terrifying. The rush of the damn water suddenly falling all over him. This Dean is so different. So confused and lost and alone.

All he can do is cradle him, make sure all the pieces stay in one place. He lets him cry. Lets him break down completely maybe for the first time in his life.

He's not sure how long it goes on for, but eventually the shivering calms, the heaves become less frequent. Cas feels Dean's fingers unclench from his overcoat to wipe at his face. But instead of his hand going to his coat again, it circles him and drops lazily behind him.

"Come back, okay? Come back."

Cas feels something wet on his face. For a moment he's confused. He blinks hard but it's still there.

He's crying too.

He clutches Dean a little bit harder, reassuringly. Nods even though Dean can't see it. It's not until the man is asleep that he finally answers.

"I will. I will."

He vanishes.

* * *

><p>Dean wakes with a start the next morning, groggy and cramped. His eyes feel incredibly heavy. Well, heavier than usual. He groans and rubs at them. Why did he feel... different?<p>

He freezes.

The dream.

It felt oddly realistic. He remembers every detail. All of his dreams as of late had been nightmares. But that one... he isn't sure whether to consider it a nightmare or not.

Sam knocks on his door before he can think on it. "Hey, you awake?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm up," he grumbles out, lifting himself out of bed.

"You still up for breakfast at the diner?"

He opens the door. Sam stops and eyes him. What was it? Surprise? Concern? "Yeah I'm up for it." Sam's still looking at him. "... What?"

He shakes his head slightly. "Uh, nothin', just... you okay? You look a little more... worn out than usual."

Dean gives him a look. Sam just nods.

They walk out to the car, Dean not having changed out of yesterday's clothes and not really caring at this point. Sam sits in the passenger seat and waits as Dean does his regular trunk inspection.

But something is... off.

When he opens the trunk, he notices something out of place. The overcoat. He's always had it folded and tucked into the bottom right corner of the trunk. He's never moved it. Sam knows better than to touch it. But now it's spread out over everything else in the trunk.

"Hey, Sam? Did you go looking through here for something?"

He sticks his head out of the window and stares at Dean.

"No, I haven't touched the trunk since the last time you did."

They trade a look.

Dean's gaze darts away first, scanning the street wide-eyed.

The dream comes to mind.

His heart skips a beat, and he looks up into the clouds.

"... Cas?"


End file.
